


come fly with me.

by ffomixam



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Crushes, First Kiss, Flying, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 04:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18229640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffomixam/pseuds/ffomixam
Summary: Early in The Beatles’ touring years; George goes on a flight that will forever change his relationship with Ringo.





	come fly with me.

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The trip to the airport was long and tedious. There was nothing to see out the windows but the dark trees highlighting the road and the patrol cars, (for their security, not amusement Brian had told them as John had joked about the sirens), and inside the car, the air was getting stale and warm from the group of sleeping men around him. George was the only one awake of The Beatles. Ringo snoring beside him. John and Paul on the other side, leaning up against each other; John’s head on Paul. If he himself weren’t so tired, he would’ve gotten a picture of the sight. To tease and laugh at later when they all were awake.

George couldn’t sleep. The adrenaline still high from the last performance, mixed together with alcohol and nicotine. His blood felt like it was buzzing, but his hands were calm even though he had almost expected them to be shaking from the unrest he was feeling throughout his body. They had eaten before leaving the hotel but time had been short and George hadn’t gotten nearly enough in him as he had wanted and so, he was hungry still.

The car shook and George looked out the window. It had gotten brighter. Not by the passage of time but rather by the nearing the vicinity of the airport and its various buildings. George sighed and leaned back. It was in times like these he was grateful for the fame that had come along with playing music with his best friends. As they were all as well recognised as they were; they had gotten special privilege to skip the entire ordeal that would usually follow with going to the airport, and would be driven straight to the private jet that had gotten them to this country, of many, in the first place.

Ringo stirred beside him as the light from outside shone into the car. George leaned slightly forward, trying to cover Ringo from the light. It was a fruitless battle, the light was too much and had filled the car, like a spotlight reminiscent of what he had seen countless times before. George looked at Ringo and thought he looked stunning in the yellow artificial light, deep in slumber. The perfect creation and object for his infatuations. It was recent; his crush, that was. He was unsure what had set it off. He had always thought Ringo was a beautiful man, unconventional and singular. He had never seen one like him before or after. It was first on this tour, three weeks into it, that he had started noticing… more of the other man. Started paying attention to the smaller details. Started to feel his own breath quicken, his skin heating, whenever the other was close. He loved watching him, studying him. It was hard. Trying not to be caught. Or when they performed, with Ringo behind him and always out of view.

Lost in his thoughts of Ringo, George hadn’t paid attention to the fact that the car had now stopped. It was not until the sound of things outside moving that George started to pay attention to the loud noises of machines and vehicles around them. To chatter from workers. He heard John move and quickly looked to him instead of Ringo. John yawned with closed eyes; causing George to join him. John laughed at him when both were done and earned himself a ‘sod off’ before George also started laughing. It wasn’t particularly funny, George thought, and chalked it up to the stresses of the day getting to him. Ringo next to him stirred awake, stretching his legs and gave a slight push to Paul’s ankle across from him. Paul had slowly opened his eyes and looked around with a hazy expression on his face, “We there?” George heard him mumble.

But before any one of them could answer; the door on George’s and John’s side opened up, sending in a chill with it. George shortly shook from the chill, before hurrying on getting out. It was dark out with only the various light sources of the airport to guide the way. Various workers mulled about and George hurried on his way from the car to the private jet, eager to get back inside and away from this place. He hoped there would be food, though he knew he would have to wait to ask for it until after take off. Ringo and the other two were close behind, slow in their step as they were still processing on waking up.

George was the first Beatle to get in a seat. George noted that it was more like a sofa, with room for another person next to him. Another one stood in front of him, separated only by a  wooden table fixed to the wall of the plane. George sighed and leaned back into the comfortable chair with closed eyes. While the change of scenery wasn’t drastic, both car and plane being on the luxurious side; something he still was unused to, he could feel himself finally relax. His heartbeat calming down from the stress and adrenaline. Thoughts quieting down. He heard the other boys talking, the rustling of clothes and shoes as the sat down close by and he opened his eyes again; it was then he noticed Ringo. In front of him. George hadn’t heard him, unlike he had the other two sitting further down the row, and as he finally looked upon him, glances shared, he felt a leap in his chest.

“You okay, lad?” He was asked. The older man looked as tired as George had felt. It had been a long day for them both. He nodded, “jus’ tired.” And with that; a perfectly timed yawn. Ringo smiled at him, causing George’s heart to race yet again and he smiled in return, a smile which quickly turned tense as the plane started moving. Even as often as they flew nowadays, he would never get used to, or comfortable with, take off and landing. But he made through it, every time. And this time especially with Ringo’s calming presence in front of him.

 

* * *

 

Later; with a can of coke and a small plate of cucumber sandwiches in front of him, George was feeling much better. It was an hour into the flight and he had managed to sleep a short while before the hunger got to him. Ringo was still sitting at the order side of the table, reading, while the last to members could be overheard talking further down the plane. The food was quickly wolfed down, much to the amusement of the man a front of him, and as George finished; Ringo shut his book and placed it on the seat next to him. In front of him were a mug. George couldn’t see what it contained, but he had his guesses.

“Any good?” George asked and pointed to the book. “Yeah,” Ringo nodded, “Very,” and picked the book back up and handed it to George, who quickly wiped his slightly damp hands on his pants legs before grabbing it. He looked it over, it was named Orlando, by an author he couldn’t recall if he had ever heard of before. He nodded and placed it back on the table. He scratched his nose and glanced out of the window, “looks interesting.” Ringo laughed out an agreement, causing George to flush and look fully away this time. _He loved his laughter. He loved his smile. He loved_ \- George closed his eyes and sighed.

George shifted out of his seat on the sofa and moved out till he stood in front of the table. He looked around. John and Paul were playing cards with small glasses in front of them each. Brian wasn’t much further away. He looked down at Ringo, who was looking back up at him with a smile on his face. “‘m going to the toilet,” he mumbled, hurrying down the narrow walkway, pass personnel and towards the tiny room. He shook his head. He hadn’t needed to tell Ringo that, had he?

George squeezed himself into the stall; reminiscent of how the sizes of these never seemed to change, no matter how rich and famous you were. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked a mess. Hair pointing at all ends and with dark lines under his eyes. He could do with a long bath and a proper bed. He could also do with pause on the constant stream of thoughts about Ringo. It was fine and first but now it was just getting to a distracting point. Sighing, he looked down at the sink where his hands were resting on its edges.

There was a knocking. George looked around in a confused state. It wasn’t long before he realised where it came from. The toilet door. He frowned and looked at it. It was clearly stated as ‘occupied’ and surely the other person could wait. It wasn’t until he had a small calling of his name, that he turned to face the door. It was Ringo. He hesitated, a mix of curiousness and anxiety overtaking him, before opening the door. “Yeah?” He looked down at the slightly smaller man. And as Ringo opened his mouth to speak; turbulence hit, knocking them both into the stall. The door forcefully shut behind them. Ringo had been pushed into him, shoving George further into the stall and landed, fortunately, safely on the closed toilet seat with only minimal rump pain.

Both had landed in such a way that George now was straddled by Ringo. Once the confusion had passed, and both had really heeded attention to their situation, George had to stifle a groan.  It was all too much, really. Of course, something like this had to happen if today hadn’t been enough already. His placement on the small toilet was awkward and he was sitting in an uncomfortable stance, but all that was easily forgettable as he looked up to Ringo. A man who was looking at him with a spark in his eyes.

He kept his hands firmly to his sides and stared up at Ringo. He was beet red. Both were. The plane shooked, jostling them further together. He saw Ringo murmur something but couldn’t for the life of him figure out what was said, the beating of his heart had reached his ears in a deafening manner. Ringo moved and George felt a bump as his heart made another leap. Ringo had now placed his hands on George’s hips, making the entire situation even more surreal for George. He looked at Ringo with large eyes, confusion clear as day. Ringo looked at him with a small smile, and like he was waiting for something. Had Ringo asked him something?

“Uh,” George began with uncertainty, feeling a weight on his chest deepen. He slowly blinked, looking into Ringo’s soft doe eyes. It was a confusing mess, yes, but George was hesitant. Not wanting to risk ending this. If his hands weren’t busy holding himself still, surely he would pinch himself.  Ringo chuckled and leaned in closer to George. “Quite an ordeal, huh?” He heard himself say. Ringo nodded and George noticed his eyes looking downwards. “You alright?” George was asked and nodded. It wasn’t completely a lie. “I should get off,” Ringo smirked, it wasn’t a question but George could feel the pull of it being close to one, and George could spy something akin to nervosity in the other man's eyes.

George’s breath faltered and he breathed in the stale air deeply. His voice shook as he whispered out a _no_ and placed a hand on Ringo’s hip. A shiver passed through them both as they looked at each other, both with each other's hands on their hips. “No?” Ringo repeated and the men were close enough to each other by now that their breath and smells mixed with each other. George’s of the caramel from the coke, Ringo’s of tobacco.

“I, uh,” George began, unsure of where to lead the sentence. It proved to be an unnecessary worry as Ringo’s lips were soon on his. A gasp was breathed into Ringo before soon being forgotten as George got over his shock and quickly joined in, syncronising their movements.  George felt warm, a nice comforting one for once, and a shiver was met throughout his body. They moved in closer, the bodies meeting, melting into each other. The plane’s shaking going unnoticed; if not furthering their delight, the vibrations not unwelcomed between them. A chuckle was shared among them as they slowly began to grind into each other in unison.

The tenseness of the day washing away, George could finally clearly think. And all was; Ringo. The artificial bright light was no longer painful for his eyes. Instead, it served him to see details of Ringo he had never paid attention to before as they paused in their making out to breathe, and study each other. George was sure he looked a mess with his tousled hair and giant smile, but he didn’t care. All he cared for now, at this moment, was the man on his lap staring down at him.  Ringo’s smile was blinding. And soon, soft kisses were placed on his forehead. His brow and nose. And, finally, back on his mouth. He wanted this moment to last forever.

So, of course, it was then a loud knocking unlike what the plane had earlier emitted, shocked them out of their idyllic state. Nervous glances were cast between them and the door where it shook as it was knocked again. George swallowed some spit and yelled out, his voice hoarse. There was a pause before a frustrated groan was heard. “Go get a room, won’t ya? Ye not the only one in the need of a whizz.” Giggles erupted from the two men, the tenseness of the short panic soon passed. Ringo rested his forehead against George’s. Both needing a moment before heading back out.


End file.
